d our meal we stared vacantly at the snowflakes that
were blown over the top of the stack above our heads and whirled round
and round in front of our eyes. Gradually we began to feel the cold
again. Many of us got up and walked about, for it was nipping our feet.
I was stiff in every limb and full of bitter thoughts. I hoped the
half-hour would be over soon.

At length the Sergeant blew the whistle and shouted:

"Fall in! Yer'd better put a jerk in it--yer won't go till yer've
finished. It's a task job. Yer didn't shift 'alf the sleepers this
mornin'--there's another couple o' thousand left, so get a bloody move
on!"

The grumbling was renewed in the ranks.

"It's no good yer bloody well grousin'. The work's got ter be done.
Carry on!"

Our tedious round began again. The distance from the old stacks to the
new increased steadily. We tramped through mud and slush in wind and
snow, hour by hour.

"I'm goin' ter 'ave a rest--I've 'ad enough o' this," said my partner. I
felt annoyed, for although I was stiff and tired and sore, I had again
relapsed into that state of dulled sensibility in which my limbs seemed
to move automatically and time to have no existence at all. Although I
was aware of pain I was yet indifferent to it. And now my partner was
going to drag me back to full consciousness. I gave way to his wish and
we leaned against a stack. We stayed there with several others until we
were discovered by a Corporal who chased us out and abused us roundly.

We went on with our work. The brief rest had only done harm, for the
first sleeper that was subsequently laid on to my shoulders produced
such a pang that I had to close my eyes for a moment. Nor could I set my
stiff limbs in motion without difficulty. I silently cursed my partner.

The dreary hours dragged on. I tried hard to fall back into my former
state of blurred consciousness, but the very attempt itself frustrated
the effort. I was full of growing resentment against my partner. My
dormant anger was aroused, it had found an object and, against all
reason and fairness, demanded vengeance. I pretended to stumble and
jerked the sleeper so as to hurt his bruised shoulder.

"'Ere, what yer doin' of?" he shouted, in great pain. "Christ
Almighty--be a bit careful!"

In a moment I regretted what I had done and said, "Sorry, I stumbled
over something--I hope I didn't hurt you!" I felt ashamed and all my
resentment vanished. Thereupon I became too oppressed in